Tival RP Storu (Maelstorm-US)
Character Info Name: Tival Human Death Knight Personality: gaunt, sarcastic, obedient, (humorous though he does not realize it), and his actions may seem confident or strong but really motivated out of fear. He tends to somehow (possibly unconsciously) attract perky characters into his life (usually gnomes) and struggles working for them/connecting. (think the grim reaper from Billy and Mandy) He attempts to make jokes and be apart of but it does not really work out and most the time those who are not afraid or angered to much to be around him, end up laughing at his difficulty. Pre-death Tival grew up as a social outcast in Westfall as result of his permanently drunken for parents. Never quite able to find his place he usually felt alone, lacking ay real direction in life. He tended to search for rushes and highs, his teen years mostly wasted on steeling ale, fights and chasing girls. When he turned 14 he found the girl of his dreams (in reality the perfect match for his roaring co-dependency). She thought him to be constantly jealous and overbearing, highly needy. This of course eventually drove the girl away. Dreams crushed the young man who sought some sort of place...belonging. The next few years are somewhat hazy and hard for him to recall. The next part however is not: He remembers stumbling onto a monastery door step, young and broken. He was taken in by the caring priestess hoping to save the lost child... He felt warmth and love from them, some of what he was looking for in the mother who didn't notice his absence. They started training him in the mysteries of The Light in hopes that these studies could aid him. He was only but embarrassed; not only was he in classes with children significantly younger than him but they performed much better as well. Being constantly frustrated he was prone to lash out, which scared him...and others. In fear for themselves and the children it was decided that perhaps he would do better amongst the paladins, just maybe it would be an outlet for his rage. (They also didn't let him know how bad he was managing The Light) Few paladins were willing to take such a risk, really all but one. For some reason, memories of him, even his name seem to be gone. Though our young apprentice he was not amazing by any means with the light, he was skilled with a sword. It fit him and soon enough the sword served as a purpose. He knows that most battles were spent at his mentors side one of the few Eastern Plaguelands' outposts. (unknown to tival: attempts to turn his master to the darkness had continually failed, so a necromancer took a new approach) The day of Tival's first mission finally came. On his own he was to ride to Lights Hope Chapel to deliver a message. A messengers mission. His excitement could be clearly noticed as he wanted nothing more than to make his mentor proud. The sounds of the wildlife in between the steps of his steed were normal to him, but the sudden lack of it was disturbing. He felt something, something cold on the back of his neck. His heart stirred, he galloped faster snapping the horses reins with all his might. As he picked up pace he slowly mustered the courage to peek over his shoulder. It all happened so fast... A cocktail of anger, fear and panic overwhelmed him. Knees turned soft as shadows leaped from tree to tree slowly catching him up. He should feel bravery and try to fight it off, instead he froze...watching. Knocked of his horse he hit the ground but managed to throw the sword through the gut of the monster leaping above him. He rolled over and attempted to run for higher ground ahead of him but the slippery mud made it impossible to escape. As he felt the pull on his heel, his head hit the ground. Sharp rapid pain was engulfing his body from the legs up; any notion of an external sound disappeared completely; he could hear his heart pumping precious blood throughout the body. Pupils dilated and from there, only pain and darkness. The kind of pain that only lasts for a second but the aftermath, hours. glowing eyes of a dark plated warrior peered over his corpse and he snickered and showed his rotting green teeth,"He will do" the voice whispered in his head. "I can't wait to see the look on that cursed light wielders face" he thought A new world of pain was experienced as his soul was ripped back. Under the Lich King (This is fragmented as he is trying to put together the order and events true nature) ' '' His eyes cracked opened to a new different feeling. Cold and lost he struggled to get up. The ground was decaying before his very eyes. Small green flickers were destroying anything that held life. "What is this magic" he asked himself in wonder after noticing a foggy blue hallway. The reason for such an appearance was unknown to him, but so were many. As he gazed more onto the abyssal path he knew it must be walked upon. The mystery was alluring and soon he would find walking towards it as if he was a lost dog walking home on instinct alone. '' '' As he opened his eyes he felt different. Cold and lost. As he sat up he saw a portal in front of him Where it lead he was not sure nor it's reason for being there, but he knew he was supposed to walk through that gate into whatever abyss it held. Foot first he entered the the portal as if he was a lost dog walking home on instinct alone. ''' As he entered he felt the gate close behind him. He was were he was supposed to be. That was the moment he will never forget, something stirred in his mind that was not there before, something he found terrifying and comforting simultaneously. Like when your asleep and you know someone is there. The call, the summoning, the words of his master. Beckoning him out to the ledge through the whimpers of chained warriors of all races around him. Out to the ledge where it was colder. Out to the ledge where it was darker. Out to the ledge where the Fallen King stood. Out the ledge where his new life, the life in death was to begin. For that was what he was told. The next several months were, well new. He was tormented, tortured, re wired, hardened. He clung closely to his peers the ones who would the ones he knew understood. Someone of them failing some of them exceeding. What he was ashamed to say was that he kinda of liked the voice, the whisper. He felt like it gave him purpose and place. He knew what to do and most of all the voice squashed the fear and feed his anger. He was trained. Not unlike those around him excelled at some areas and failed at a few. Mostly necromancy, to precise for him, to technical. To much study, to much thought. The corpses he rose didn't come back just right. Some had to many limbs, in not the right places, some had not enough. Blood magic was much of the same he wasn't a defender he struggled with the bugs and leeches and mostly his instructor. Now in the world of frost. There he did well it made since and understood the lich he understood the concepts, and most of all he had one to look up to one who exceeded a master a Death Knight by the name of Tharassian. Though they never spoke more than a few words. He succeeded in his trails, as they were held. Not all well but he did none the less. He was indeed a suitable initiate one who could be used as a pawn in the coming war the one spilling out of that fortress the one from the ebon hold. (Most of the following events can be found in the Death Knight starting area) He fought as the other initiates did in that war, well and like a puppet. He dueled and slaughter. He won a steed naming it Frost, and rode against knights. This went on for a while. Like many other death knights he was sent to a prison to execute a prisoner. A woman starred up at him in tears. Tival could not understand why, as she spoke of a monastery and of training. Something about him being like a son. she would not stop she just kept talking he couldn't stand it. Not her words but the battle between them and his dark passenger, the one in his mind. One would have to give he un seethed his swords, peered into her eyes and as she accepted her fate he thrust. He once more had plied his trade. He walked back and as he stepped out the door. As he took his last step he took just one glance back and walked out down the cracking wooden steps. As the scourge engulfed the city he battled along side them commanding ghouls and slaughtering peasants and militia, he stood on a pile of limbs and guts. Savoring in the release the killing gave him. He heard the steeping of steel behind him. Step, Step, Step. He could feel aches through his spine, "This pain, this is the light...a paladin" he said. "What have they done to you laddy" pierced Tival's ears. Slowly our Death Knight turned around and glared down with his searing blue eyes. Down at the dwarf 10 yards ahead of him. Covered from neck to toe in steel armor of the light, the tome hanging from his side smacking against his side as the wind blew it back and forth. The pages fluttered in the wind. A tear fell and a death knight charged. The mind of the dwarf raced with sorrow. He couldn't kill the boy. "Kill", the dark passenger hissed. The fight roared if you can call it that. The dwarf didn't sing, he just blocked, parried and attempt to consult. Tival screamed at the cowardice with all the fury the dark passenger allowed him to spur. The ground shook. There was nothing else left around the too. The shaking paused them both. Tival knew half of what was happening. He knew he dark passenger was not far. (later he found out the events at lights hope chapel were un folding) Something happened the voice. It left, confused and angry Tival held back hoping it would once more hiss from the back of his mind, but it did not. He stared blindly. "I'm sorry Laddy" the Dwarf said softly as he struck his former pupil enough to knock him to his knees and again to send him to the ground face down. Ironic that his new life would yet again begin this way. he felt a kick to his chest and heard the words. "This ones is still attached to this world" and from a distance, "Good, bring it back to the hold high lord wants all the Death Knights he can get." After His Freedom He liked the High lord, he was fixing this mess. His words echoed as Tival marched the halls of the hold regaining his mind, his thought, his memory, and his will. He was not the same as he was in life or in his time with the dark passenger. He was confused, he was lost, yet again. He didn't have anything but this. He thought through what he was. He accepted his death. He accepted what he was and what it meant he hungered for. He could not accept what he had done. he had pits of denial and guilt. Most of all he felt anger he wanted revenge. Being the fact that the Newly formed knights of the ebon blade had work to be done, Tival was not allowed to sit around and mope. He was sent to aid Tharassian in what ever way possible to help hold the relationship with the alliance and Stormwind. From there his adventures continued much like any other hero that everyone he meets typically hates. From a stent at honor to hold to manning his post for the fight in Ice crown. To his battles aiding in the death of his former parasite, as he now viewed him. With the Lich Kings death purpose was gone but he was not completely lost as he was before. He had a home with the death knights he had things to fix, to rebuild, to do, to find. He just wanting to live as he never was able to do dying in his early 20's as he did. He aided as he could through that catacslym and into the new lands of pandaria. He follows the orders of those who give them to him and who he trusts. He would follow Darion and Tharassian blindly. The fill the void that his dark passenger, his parasite left. Just not quite as much as he needs. He doesn't need to be controlled, he just needs help. He struggles with his purpose. He is looking for what he can do. Old habits die hard he needs to kill he need to follow orders, he needs to go in and out of his codependency, and he needs to connect however he can. He fights in the new lands all he can. In his spare time he searches for the dwarf. The one who mentored him. He attempts to build a life within the alliance as his high lord commanded for the purpose of their needed relation ship, Though he always ends up with the perky ones (which are much more difficult for him) He has joined a new guild The court of the Ruby Grail hoping to find the one who he can defend and follow. The one who can give him what he is not getting enough of from his elder death knights. Maybe he will. He still can't resurrect a proper ghoul to save his..well life? or death? He is THE shadow of his former life trying to survive and get what he missed. He is the necessary darkness.